


roll the windows down

by iwaoist



Series: cobalt kisses [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Acceptance, First Love, Graduation, Impied past!TsukiKage, Internalised Transphobia, Internalized Homophobia, Kunimi Akira in a skirt, Kunimi is a trans non-binary they/he, M/M, Mentions of other Karasuno students, Reconciliation, Senior year, reassurance, right person wrong time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:02:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27531955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwaoist/pseuds/iwaoist
Summary: Kunimi and Kageyama’s first reconciliation. It’s senior year, it’s warm, Kunimi wears a skirt to school and Kageyama learns what it’s like to want to know someone inside and out.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Kunimi Akira
Series: cobalt kisses [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012329
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	roll the windows down

**Author's Note:**

> here's a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2abAH2DbqaSvnR0ZXCOVXH?si=Y81UUELDRR2g4qiZVO2AGA) to set the mood

“Kageyama.”

“Kunimi, Kindaichi- what are you doing here?” Eyebrows furrowed behind the sharp ‘v’-shape of Kageyama Tobio’s bangs, head tilting in confusion as he tried to get a grasp of the unfamiliar situation. 

“What does it look like, idiot? We’re here to annoy you.”

“What Kunimi means is ‘we’re here to be friends again.’” Kindaichi was awkward, scuffing the toe of his shiny school shoe on the ground to have something else to focus on as he avoided Kageyama’s piercing cobalt gaze. 

The three of them were perhaps the world’s most awkward communicators, and it didn’t help that they hadn’t spoken properly in years, but middle school was a long time ago; it was spring of their final year in high school, and the warmth was slowly beginning to creep in again. 

Maybe it was the perfect time for the three of them to start again.

“Okay- okay?” Kageyama tried not to trip over the words, but the possibility of this being some kind of trick on the Seijoh students’ behalf made his head spin.

“Come on, idiot. You’ve got plans.” Kunimi met Kageyama’s gaze, and they bumped their elbow against Kageyama’s ribs as they had done a million times before, in what felt like a lifetime ago.

The walk to Kunimi’s home wasn’t familiar (Kageyama hadn’t been there in years, and besides, when had he ever journeyed there from Karasuno?) but it wasn’t long trip. There were some silences as the trio walked, but it was never uncomfortable. 

The rest of the time, they spoke about volleyball, about their classes, about some stupid game that Kindaichi was mildly addicted to playing on his phone at every opportunity. It was stupid and semi-familiar, and that was enough to put Kageyama’s anxieties to rest, even if just for a while. 

As if they could sense it, Kunimi gave Kageyama’s arm a gentle pat; though if you’d have looked at their face, you would never have guessed that they possessed anything but apathy towards Kageyama.

Kageyama knew from experience that that was simply how Kunimi worked, but it didn’t make it any easier to understand them. His arm burned white-hot under their touch, but Kageyama wasn’t sure he minded.

Hours passed, and after Kindaichi made his excuses about having too much homework, Kageyama was left alone with Kunimi in the confines of the four beige walls of their bedroom.

The front door clicked shut downstairs and the silence spread out between them, filling the empty space with a slight tension in the air.

“Was this your idea?” Kageyama dared ask, eventually. He was curious and he never quite understood what people wanted from him. There wasn’t a rule book or a beginner’s guide to people, but he wished there was something that would help him _get_ others.

“Why’d you care?” Kunimi’s eyes narrowed, their nose scrunching up somewhat as they rebutted Kageyama’s question with ease. It wasn’t like they were avoiding the question, they just enjoyed being obstinate sometimes. Kageyama knew that well.

“I just do.” Kageyama blinked at Kunimi, and they were stunned by the earnestness of Kageyama’s gaze as it remained fixed on him.

“Yeah. Kind of.” Kunimi shrugged. They pulled their beige trouser-clad legs up to their chest, resting their chin atop the arms folded over their knees. “Did you miss us?”

_Did you miss me?_

“Are you laughing at me?”

“No, actually.” Kunimi shook their head lightly, the closest thing to an act of reassurance that they had to offer to Kageyama. 

Kageyama was grateful.

“Then yes. I missed you.” Kageyama couldn’t keep his eyes on Kunimi, instead focusing on the glass of milk he’d been presented with at some point during the evening. Taking a sip, he distracted himself from the dull thrum of anxiety that pulsed through his veins. His skin crawled under Kunimi’s sharp gaze, but Kageyama felt none of the rage that usually bubbled up inside whenever he felt anxious. 

Kunimi was still familiar to him.

“Good.”

Kunimi left it there, but there was surely more the two of them needed to discuss. 

Maybe another time.

\---

Kageyama had been interrogated by the others the next day at school. 

Yachi had broached the subject first, asking him when he had become friends with the Seijoh players again. 

Kageyama had offered a shrug and avoided her gaze, bringing the straw of his milk drink back to his lips to hide the furrowing of his brow and the pursing of his lips. He didn’t know how to answer and he preferred to ignore the question altogether, so Yachi let him. 

Hinata did not. 

“Kageyama, are you ditching me again tonight?” Hinata asked, the smile on his face a welcome indicator that he was joking, and that Kageyama wasn’t in trouble with him. “It’s weird to see you hang out with those two, but I suppose you were all friends once, right?”

“Right,” was Kageyama’s only response. 

“By the way, if you want to meet with them after practice again- let me know, I’ll make sure to go home with Tsukki and Yamaguchi. They won’t mind.”

“Fine.” _Thanks_.

Hinata seemed to accept his silent thank you, the two of them familiar enough at this point to not require explicit words of gratitude, and he bumped his shoulder against Kageyama’s arm as they walked to class. 

Kageyama noticed that his skin didn’t burn like it did with Kunimi. He didn’t know what that meant and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

Tsukishima was the next to talk to him.

“Kageyama- wait up-” he heard from behind him, down the corridor.

The gap between them was closed easily as Kageyama stood to one side, the blond taking advantage of his height as he took large strides.

“What?” Kageyama was blunt, but they’d known each other long enough for it to be normal.

“Why were you hanging out with Kunimi and Kindaichi yesterday?” Tsukishima asked, eyes narrowed as he looked down at the raven-haired male. 

“Why do you care, Tsukishima?”

“What makes you think I care?”

“You nearly took out a first year in your effort to chase me down the corridor. You shouted my name. You’re asking me this question,” Kageyama answered earnestly, playing with the strap of his school bag as he averted his eyes from the blond.

“Whatever. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“I wasn’t aware that I had asked. I apologise,” Kageyama muttered, before turning to walk away. Tsukishima caught his arm before he could leave.

“Fine. Do whatever you want, Kageyama.” Kageyama didn’t know why Tsukishima’s actions differed from his words, but Kageyama often found him confusing off the court. “But don’t come to me when you get burnt.”

Kageyama wanted to point out that he probably wouldn’t do that anyway, but Tsukishima had already strode away, down the corridor and far from him. He didn’t bother going after him.

\---

Kageyama was still surprised when he saw Kindaichi and Kunimi outside Karasuno when practice had ended. It wasn’t unpleasant, and the tense feeling of uncertainty wasn’t present today- at least, not any more than he felt constantly anyway.

Kindaichi offered him a smile, which was nice. Kageyama made a mental note to smile at him at some point. 

They hung out at Kunimi’s again, playing video games and eating snacks for a while, with Kindaichi going home early. He was weird about it, offering some flimsy excuse that Kageyama wasn’t sure was true, but Kageyama didn’t mention it, and said his goodbyes, bumping his fist against Kindaichi’s when prompted.

He was alone with Kunimi again.

Kageyama couldn’t look at them, but they didn’t seem to mind. They moved from their seat at their desk, crossing the room to sit beside Kageyama on their bed.

“Do you want another glass of milk?” They asked, and Kageyama dared let his eyes flicker to their face for a second, but his focus quickly returned to a crack in the paint on Kunimi’s bedroom wall.

“No, I’m fine.” 

“Okay.”

Kageyama wasn’t sure of the boundaries that existed between them. He’d clearly never been good at reading Kunimi, and Kunimi was someone who didn’t tend to fit easily into the carved out roles given to them. Kunimi smashed through his defenses. They were too close to his side because he could feel their body heat against his arm, and Kageyama pursed his lips as his gaze moved to Kunimi’s legs. 

Kunimi had been blessed with long, statuesque proportions and Kageyama found it difficult not to stare. Although Kunimi wasn’t much taller than him, the difference seemed much more pronounced as Kageyama sat with his knees pulled up to his chest and Kunimi spread themselves out at his side, reclining lazily on their bed. 

Kageyama found it hard to stop looking, but he knew that the appropriate amount of time for looking at Kunimi had expired. Kageyama offered no explanation as he trailed his gaze upwards, drinking in his (former?) friend’s appearance, noting the way their shoulders had broadened and their chest had grown more muscular. 

The tight shirt of the Seijoh uniform was spread across Kunimi’s torso, unkempt from Kunimi’s abandonment of the sweater vest and tie almost immediately upon entering their bedroom earlier on in the evening. 

“Kageyama, you’re staring.”

“I know.”

Kageyama could tell that Kunimi’s gaze was fixed upon him once more, and for once it seemed that Kageyama wasn’t the only one struggling to understand someone’s actions.

“Why?”

“You’re different now.”

“Shut up, Kageyama.”

“Remind me where I said that was a bad thing.” Kageyama rolled his eyes, ignoring the way that his reaction was almost a carbon copy of Tsukishima. He didn’t want to think about Tsukishima right now.

“Stop being a smart ass,” Kunimi huffed, elbowing Kageyama in the side. It was familiar, again. Kageyama noticed how it seemed like things were back to how they were before. He liked it. 

It was odd to be back in this tiny, beige-and-blue room with Kunimi, when they were both so different now. Kageyama could guess that Kunimi felt the same, but he wouldn’t ever be sure. 

“It’s getting late. I’m going to go, Miwa will kick my ass if I’m any later.”

“How is she?” Kunimi asked, lips pursing as they acknowledged Kageyama’s plans to leave. Kageyama wasn’t sure, but it seemed like they didn’t like it.

“She’s good, actually. She’s still the same.”

“I’m glad.” Honesty. There it was again. “I’ll walk you out.” Kunimi rose to their feet, wiggling their toes as they slid on their house slippers.

“You don’t have to.” Kageyama shook his head, midnight-black bangs falling into his eyes.

“I know.” Kunimi brushed past him, walking off ahead. 

Kageyama didn’t mind catching up.

\---

Settling into a routine wasn’t always easy for Kageyama, but he constantly craved the stability that reoccurring plans gave him. It’s why he liked practicing early and staying late after hours with Hinata, why he liked studying on Sunday mornings with Yachi when he needed the help, why he had liked whatever it was he had done with Tsukishima over winter break. 

The changing of his plans often made him uncomfortable, but Kageyama’s ability to accept new outcomes and new opportunities had grown a lot over the years. He would no longer panic or grow angry when his itinerary changed, and he was glad, because Kunimi Akira had developed a habit of showing up outside Kageyama’s house uninvited. 

Kageyama didn’t mind.

It was late- or early, in fact- and Kageyama let Kunimi convince him to go for a walk; Kageyama was better at listening, now. 

The two of them walked the streets of the quiet neighbourhood they both lived in, not speaking. It was dark, and Kunimi had clearly left their home in a hurry; despite the cool night air, their long legs (longer than Kageyama’s, he noticed) extended out from a pair of shorts under the Aoba Johsai sports jacket, its teal and white a contrast against the midnight colour of Kunimi’s hair that was longer than Kageyama remembered it. 

He wanted to touch it, feel the soft strands between the pads of his calloused fingertips and relish in knowing if it was as soft as it looked.

Kunimi’s legs were once again a point of distraction; their lean muscles, the purplish bruises on their knees (no doubt from diving to save a ball at practice), the milky tone to their skin. 

They were smooth, and Kageyama briefly pondered Kunimi shaving their legs. He pushed the thought away as quickly as it came. 

Their height difference seemed more pronounced that evening, just like that time in Kunimi’s bedroom, with Kageyama having to tilt his head every time he wanted to steal a glance at Kunimi’s face. 

Kageyama noted that Kunimi was beautiful, in a purely objective way. 

Lashes dusting high cheekbones, carefully maintained brows, a faint silvery blue shimmer dusted across their eyelids- Kageyama’s half-asleep brain thought Kunimi was like a fairy, or maybe a mermaid. Either way, Kunimi was not of this world.

Kageyama looked pointedly down at his shoes as they walked side by side.

“Why is Kindaichi not here?”

Kunimi didn’t speak for a second. They paused, and when they responded they were defensive, pulling the zip of the jacket up as far as it would go. “We don’t have to do everything together, contrary to popular belief. Sometimes I don’t want to see him.”

“Is this why you wanted to be my friend again?” Kageyama was blunt with his question, but something about being second-best, being backup, didn’t sit right with him.

Kunimi faced Kageyama, shaking their head. Their hair fell into their eyes, and Kageyama was once again distracted by their pretty makeup. It was then that he realised it was smudged and streaky, like they’d been- oh.

Kageyama wasn’t prepared for this, and Kunimi seemed embarrassed as they wiped at the streaks of black. Before Kunimi could ruin the white cuffs of their team jacket, Kageyama pulled their hands away from their face and gingerly wiped at the black, streaky trails of salty tears and mascara. 

“Don’t get it on that, you won’t be able to wash it out.”

Kunimi looked at Kageyama in silence, but nodded their head once in acknowledgement. Kageyama’s hands dropped from Kunimi’s face, his palms burning from the skin-to-skin contact.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Kageyama was aware that he wasn’t exactly the perfect shoulder to cry on, but for whatever reason Kunimi had sought him out at three in the morning, when they both had class tomorrow.

“Yeah. And no.” Kunimi shrugged, their face still somewhat blotchy from the tears that barely halted, always threatening to spill over. “What if this is all a mistake, Kageyama?”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Me, stupid. Keep up. What if this is just- why can’t I be normal? Why couldn’t I just be a _boy_ like you- or even a _girl_ at this point, I just don’t want to be a freak anymore. Fuck.” 

Kageyama flinched at the words, just as Kunimi did the second they passed through their strawberry-flavoured lips. 

Kageyama had asked himself the same thing multiple times: ‘ _why can’t I just be normal?’_

The latest crisis being one of the sexuality type, it took Miwa reassuring him on multiple occasions, through blotchy-faced tears and staggered breathing that everything was still _fine_ and that their family didn’t mind whatever he did. He still wasn’t sure he believed her most of the time, but he had no choice but to have faith. She wouldn’t lie about these things.

Kageyama wiped at Kunimi’s face gently, his touch lingering just a fraction too long before he dropped his hand back to his side. 

“Kunimi?”

“Hm?”

“Fuck being normal, when whatever you’re meant to be is so much more than that.”

Kageyama wasn’t one for grand speeches, big statements or swearing- they both knew that much- but he felt a strange longing to make everything better. To fix whatever was wrong. It was confusing and odd; he wasn’t sure he had ever wanted to make someone feel better like that before.

There was a strange, but not unwelcome tension between them, but nothing more was said on the matter and Kunimi let the back of their hand brush against Kageyama’s as they walked the empty streets together.

—-

They continued onwards; Kunimi and Kindaichi picked him up from school often, and they’d either go to Kunimi’s house, or the arcade, or the cafe that did the nicest milkshakes in town. 

They had become a unit of sorts.

There wasn’t much that the three of them didn’t know about each other now, having slotted back into their easy trio as if nothing had happened. The one thing that never failed to shock Kageyama was when Kunimi wore their other school uniform. 

Those long legs, that had been a constant source of stress for Kageyama, peeked out from under the pleated beige skirt. They were lean and toned and pretty, and Kageyama remembered he’d choked on his milk box the first time Kunimi had appeared outside the Karasuno school gates with them out on display. 

Kindaichi had laughed at him, and Kageyama could have sworn that Kunimi was hiding a smirk as they turned their head away. 

“Jeez, Kageyama- get a grip, it’s just Kunimi.” Kindaichi was laughing at him, and Kageyama’s brows furrowed- Kunimi’s hand brushed against the back of Kageyama's as they walked and Kageyama eased up. 

Right. Kindaichi wasn’t teasing him. 

“Yeah, it’s just _me_.” Kageyama could tell the sentence was loaded as Kunimi glanced at him, speaking somewhat softly. 

_Well, ‘_ just you _’ is very pretty._

“Whatever. I’m not giving you my jacket if you get cold.” Kageyama brushed off his awkwardness as he strode ahead, away from the both of them, his feet taking him towards Kunimi’s house before he even realised where he was headed.

Kindaichi had made a total of thirty-nine flimsy excuses to go home early since they had started hanging out again. Kageyama had counted. 

Forty, if he counted the one that was surely about to be offered up momentarily.

As if on cue, Kindaichi rose to his feet from his position on Kunimi’s bedroom floor, gathering his belongings. “Right, I’ve got to get back home, need to feed the cat.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Kunimi shrugged, barely looking up from their phone. 

“I’ll see you Monday?” Kindaichi turned to Kageyama, who shrugged similarly to Kunimi. 

“Sure. See you then.” 

And once again, they were alone. 

Kageyama was doing a terrible job of pretending to study at Kunimi’s desk, because he kept turning his head aside and stealing glances at Kunimi’s long legs, crossed as they read on their bed. 

“Stop staring at me.”

Kageyama averted his eyes in a hurry, training his gaze on the diagram of a cell in front of him. “Sorry.”

“Are you?”

“...No.” 

“Then don’t say it.” Kunimi’s voice was much closer; they’d sat up, swinging their legs round and were sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at Kageyama. 

Kageyama felt exposed, and he shrank slightly in his seat.

“Why were you staring at me, Kageyama?” Kunimi asked, and for the first time in a long time, Kageyama noticed a somewhat fearful, closed-off look on his friend’s features.

“Because I like looking at you.” Kageyama was honest. He knew it sounded odd, but Kunimi valued honesty. Kageyama knew that. It was one of the pieces of information Kageyama had labelled and carefully tucked into the ‘Kunimi’ box in his brain, years ago at this point. 

“I know I’m different, but don’t just stare at me like I’m some kind of animal.” Kunimi muttered, though their tone was weary and upset, rather than angry and sharp. “I feel more comfortable like this sometimes, you’re just going to have to get used to it.”

“You think I’m not used to it?”

Kunimi gave Kageyama a pointed look and a sigh, as if to remind him he’d been staring mere moments prior. 

“I am used to it. I like it- it’s nice to see you happy and confident and whatever.” Kageyama had softened his tone, looking away from Kunimi. He was embarrassed, cheeks flushed a warm pink. 

“So you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

Kunimi pursed their lips, absorbing their thoughts with a slight nod. Kageyama was too afraid to wonder what that meant. 

“Kunimi- you know-“ Kageyama froze. He wasn’t good at this. It scared him. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He didn’t speak again, but he moved. He sat on the edge of the bed with Kunimi, and allowed their bodies to touch; ankle to ankle, knee to knee, hip to hip, shoulder to shoulder. 

Kunimi somehow understood.

Kageyama remained silent, his pinky finger gently rubbing against Kunimi’s as they sat in the quiet of Kunimi’s bedroom. 

“Thank you, Kageyama.” 

“Mn.”

Kageyama didn’t know what else to do to help his friend. Reassurance was never his strong suit, and Kunimi tended to make Kageyama feel like he was walking on a knife’s edge, one misstep from plunging into something dangerous and unknown. 

Maybe he was, but maybe it didn’t have to be a bad thing.

When Kageyama dared lift his gaze from where it had been trained on his own kneecaps, steadying himself, he stole a glance at Kunimi, who was staring right back at him. 

Kunimi looked curious, like Kageyama was some kind of riddle to figure out and learn his secrets. Kageyama felt a nearly overwhelming urge to lay himself bare. He didn’t like it.

“Kageyama,” began Kunimi, their pretty lips allowing the whisper of his name to pass through as Kageyama raised an eyebrow in acknowledgement of their question. “Do you think that I’m pretty?”

The pause was only a few seconds, but it was enough for Kunimi to regret asking the question, to shift away from Kageyama and to avert their gaze. Kageyama took that time to steel himself, his fists clenched tight as he fought against the panic threatening to rise up inside his chest.

“...Yes.”

Kunimi narrowed their eyes, already huffing out a defiant sigh and shaking their head. “You don’t have to say that, it was stupid of me to ask.”

“Shut up.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said yes, Kunimi.” Kageyama scowled at the floor, his chest tight with the thrumming of anxiety. “And I meant it?”

“You did?”

“Yeah.”

The silence between them was filled with adolescent awkwardness. They were both tinged with pink from head to toe, avoiding each other’s gaze. 

If they’d have looked at each other, Kageyama would have seen Kunimi’s tiny smile and Kunimi would have seen Kageyama’s expression that was closer to showing heartburn than butterflies in his tummy. They would have laughed, and Kageyama would have felt embarrassed, but Kunimi would have reminded him silently that things were okay. They would have kissed, their noses bumping awkwardly and their teeth bumping and their hands not being able to find the right spot to rest on the other’s body.

None of that happened, though. 

Instead, they sat in their awkward silence. Kageyama continued to rub his pinky against Kunimi’s longer, more slender one; something about the softness of their skin and the tiniest of touches made his heart feel trapped in his chest. 

Kageyama was thoroughly confused by how Kunimi’s presence had this stupifying effect on him; he wasn’t stupid, he knew he’d developed a crush on them. He didn’t quite know how that had happened. If he was reading Kunimi right (which honestly, Kageyama was never really sure he was) then they seemed to feel something towards him too. He hoped so, at least. He wanted it.

\---

“What’s up with you and those two from Aoba Johsai?”

Kageyama raised his head, his gaze landing on the blond, bespectacled boy as they walked along the school corridor together. 

“Don’t give me that look, I know there’s something.” Tsukishima was biting the inside of his cheek; Kageyama knew that meant he was worried about something but determined not to let it show.

“We’ve been hanging out a bit, I guess? We’re friends from middle school, you know that.” Kageyama shrugged; he knew that Tsukishima knew that, but it was the easiest answer. Especially when he didn’t know exactly what was happening between Kunimi and himself.

“I do. But we never see you anymore, Kageyama. It’s not good for the team.” Kageyama noticed that Tsukishima was pointedly looking away from him as they spoke- he was hiding something.

“Not good for the team?” Kageyama raised his eyebrows under his bangs; he didn’t quite understand where this was coming from. They were playing at their best level they had achieved for years, they were in with a shot of winning nationals, they were on their way to being the best Karasuno team as far as anyone could remember. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You never spend any time with us.”

“‘Us’? Or you?” Kageyama muttered, his gaze trained on his shoes.

“Does it matter?” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, refusing to let himself be baited by Kageyama. 

He wasn’t one to get riled up by other people’s jabs, usually, but Kageyama had always found a way to get under his skin. The King of the Court just had to be right.

“Yes.”

“Whatever. If we lose, we’ll all blame you.” Tsukishima didn’t mean it, and he didn’t expect for Kageyama to believe it; it was flimsy, a see-through attack that would do absolutely nothing to hurt Kageyama, and Tsukki knew it. 

There was a roll of Tsukishima’s eyes, before long legs clad in the Karasuno school uniform carried the taller male away from Kageyama. 

Kageyama struggled with reading Tsukki sometimes, but this wasn’t one of them; he was screaming jealousy from head to toe.

\---

The days were getting warmer. 

It was approaching summer and usually, Kageyama didn’t mind the changing of the seasons. But Kunimi had thrown a spanner in the works, as they tended to do. 

The heat crept in, taunting Kageyama with each passing day. 

Or maybe it was Kunimi that teased him. 

Kageyama pretended not to notice the inches of exposed skin above Kunimi’s knee, where they had rolled their skirt up ‘to deal with the heat’. The exposed flesh of Kunimi’s thighs was significantly distracting, along with the teasing way they’d tied their school shirt up at the bottom, with a sliver of pale, smooth skin and a flash of silver from their pierced navel. 

Kageyama wasn’t sure he could look at them without turning red, so he didn’t risk it. He remained quieter than usual, and if he did speak, he focused on Kindaichi. If he did have to speak to them, he never made eye contact with them and he _certainly_ didn’t turn to face them. 

It was probably rude, but he wasn’t sure how else to keep his pride intact. He didn’t want to do or say or think something he’d regret. He wasn’t sure how much of this he could take.

He was flustered and awkward and honestly, he felt like he was above being the awkward best friend crushing on the cool kid from the other school. His feelings were cliche and overwhelming and weird and he didn’t quite understand how they’d even begun in the first place.

\---

The hours with Kunimi seemed to pass by Kageyama at a disorientating pace; it confused him how the moments alone with them somehow felt like there was no stopping time on its race past the two of them at all, but also that every hour dragged on sluggishly like there was no rush needed in the world. Like maybe, not everything had to be a constant battle of rushing pulses and blood pounding in his ears as he squashed every bout of anxiety down inside himself.

Kunimi made things easier, but they were also the reason behind most of the sleepless nights Kageyama faced these days.

Things weren’t like this with Tsukishima; they’d never really dated, just indulged in each other’s company alone over a few dark winter nights. They were never a couple, they were just friends who kissed in secret. They were never Kei and Tobio. They could have been, if they’d both tried. But they didn’t and hadn’t wanted to; not like Kageyama thought about with Kunimi. 

It was the tiniest actions that he found the most difficult to hold back: hand-holding, secret smiles, whispered promises, a name. 

_Akira_. 

It tasted soft in his mouth and sometimes it cut his tongue as he held back from letting it slip out from between his lips. 

He whispered it alone in the dark recesses of his bedroom, and sometimes he wished that it would summon them, with them throwing rocks at his window to get his attention.

_Akira. Akira. Akira. Akira. Akira. Akira._

They never came.

\---

He was running out of time. 

Kageyama knew his days with Kunimi were numbered, and that graduation was looming over them. Dark clouds of real life tainted the sunny skies of summer evenings, spent exploring the town with Kindaichi or holed up in the security of Kunimi’s bedroom. 

Kindaichi started to ditch them more and more often, Kageyama noticed. The three of them would make it to just outside Kunimi’s garden path, but Kindaichi would give Kunimi a look that Kageyama didn’t quite understand before saying his goodbyes. He’d hugged Kageyama once, and despite the awkwardness Kageyama felt it wasn’t bad. He made a mental note to initiate physical contact next time. He still owed Kindaichi that smile from before.

With a shrug, Kunimi watched Kindaichi leave the two of them alone outside their home. Kageyama followed them inside, his gaze once again trained on anything but the exposed flesh of Kunimi’s skirt-clad legs. 

“Have you and Kindaichi fallen out?” Kageyama asked, laying on Kunimi’s bed at their side as they looked up at the ceiling together. 

Their pinky fingers were looped together, hidden by the pleats of Kunimi’s skirt from where it’d spread out around their legs. Kageyama was grateful for the hold, and for it being away from prying eyes. It was overwhelming and honestly made his stomach churn with unease; he couldn’t read the situation well, and it hurt as he overthought every passing moment.

“What makes you say that?”

“Why didn’t you answer the question?”

Kageyama saw in his peripheral vision that Kunimi had tilted their head to face him. Their eyes were trailing his face, and it took all his effort not to meet their eyes. 

“Because I don’t know the answer, Kageyama.” Kunimi breathed, the silence of the room seeming even more pronounced. “He thinks- I don’t know. He thinks I should do something, I think I shouldn’t.”

“Tell me what it is, and I can tell you what I think.” Kageyama’s eyes briefly lock with Kunimi’s before they fix upon a tiny crack in the ceiling above them. 

“Who says I want your opinion?” Kunimi scoffed, but squeezed Kageyama’s pinky tighter with their own. 

Kageyama jabbed them in the ribs with his free hand, but it was playful. He understood Kunimi was teasing, this time. He was proud of himself.

“You seemed to value my opinion a lot when you asked if I thought you were pretty.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Kunimi grumbled, shoving Kageyama and sticking their tongue out in childish defiance.

Kageyama laughed a little at that, quiet but deafening in the silence of Kunimi’s boxy bedroom. As he tilted his head to the side, he saw Kunimi looking at him with his mouth parted slightly. He looked surprised, and Kageyama didn’t know why. 

“What’s up?” Kageyama inquired. He was trying really hard not to tuck Kunimi’s hair behind their ear, where it had fallen into their face. He thought it must be annoying, and it annoyed him for even mildly obscuring them. He tersely kept his hand pinned to his side, instead searching their face for clues. 

“Nothing. You- I’ve not seen you laugh like that since we were kids.” Kunimi mumbled, averting their gaze sheepishly.

_Oh?_

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kageyama’s frown returned and he looked away, turning to lay on his back again. His eyes met that crack in the ceiling once more. 

“No, it- I wasn’t criticising you. I liked it.” Kunimi was embarrassed- Kageyama swore he could feel the heat coming from their cheeks as they dared to inch closer. 

Kageyama would be lying if he wasn’t similarly affected as Kunimi’s head rested on his shoulder. He stole a glance at them, and saw that their face was burning and their breathing was a little shaky as they encroached on his space. Their eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and if they weren’t Kageyama wasn’t sure he would have the confidence or capacity for his next move. 

Leaning in close, close enough to smell the tea tree of Kunimi’s shampoo, he squeezed his own eyes tightly shut and placed his lips against the skin of Kunimi’s forehead, between their bangs. For a moment, Kageyama thought about how the parting of their hair was like a demand for Kageyama to kiss the bare skin between the silky midnight strands that framed their face. He would give in again, if given the chance.

It seemed he’d be afforded the opportunity another time, because Kunimi relaxed a little, burying their face in Kageyama’s neck. They were laying on their side now, pressed firmly against Kageyama’s side. It was risky, but Kageyama’s risks that day had been paying off. His arm shifted, and Kunimi whined softly as they were briefly disturbed. Kageyama whispered an apology as his arm wrapped around Kunimi, pulling them in closer. 

“Hm, I guess you’re forgiven.” Kunimi muttered, their lips brushing the skin of Kageyama’s neck as they spoke softly. 

Neither of them had ever been ones for cuddling before, but the deep yearning Kageyama was feeling to just be close to Kunimi was suffocating. He was drowning in need, and Kunimi was both the siren dragging him down into the depths and the lifesaver he clung to, keeping himself above the waves.

Kageyama tried not to think of how hopeless it was, to feel this way. He didn’t know what this _thing_ between them meant to Kunimi, but it was important to him. At the same time, he knew it was futile to remain stuck in this limbo of feelings, when soon they were going to graduate high school.

Kageyama hadn’t told anyone, but he’d been scouted for a professional team in Italy and was likely going to accept their offer. It was his dream to go pro, everyone knew that; so why was he so insanely terrified of telling Kunimi?

“What’s on your mind?” Kunimi mumbled against Kageyama’s neck, soft and quiet; Kageyama understood the privilege it was to see them this way, and for a second he simply drank in the sight of Kunimi resting their head on his chest.

“You.” It wasn’t a lie. Kageyama’s brain dreamed of Kunimi in the gaps between every conscious thought. 

Kunimi seemed satisfied with his answer, though would never admit it. Instead, they pressed their face tighter into the crook of Kageyama’s neck, breathing him in. They were pressed so close that Kageyama could feel the metal of Kunimi’s navel piercing against his hip, and he wanted to peel back the layers of Kunimi’s school uniform to stare at the flash of metal at home in their soft, milky flesh.

He resisted, and he was glad; if he’d have moved an inch, he would have disrupted Kunimi, who had been thinking at a mile a minute as they considered their next action.

Kageyama felt soft lips against his neck, though in lieu of a whispered thought, Kageyama’s eyes widened at the realisation Kunimi was sucking lightly on his skin. Closing his eyes, Kageyama’s train of thought raced away from him at a mile a minute. There was tiny wet noises as Kunimi’s tongue swept out, soothing the spot where they had lightly bitten Kageyama’s smooth skin. 

As Kunimi pulled away, they sat up. They perched on the edge of their bed, cheeks red and face frowning as they looked at the floor. They were adamant they weren’t going to look at Kageyama, but they heard his laboured breathing in the silence of their room and dared sneak a peek. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth, his brows were furrowed and his fists were clamped tightly shut in the fabric of Kunimi’s bedsheets.

Kunimi smiled a little- they felt almost proud of this reaction, especially when they watched Kageyama’s death grip on his sheets loosen slowly. 

Kageyama shot Kunimi a glare. “You’re evil.”

“Yeah.”

“I have to cover this for school.”

“Not my problem.” Kunimi shrugged. They moved to their desk chair, but rested their feet on the foot of their bed as they crossed their long legs, eyes locked onto Kageyama. Kageyama felt both buoyant and murderous as he stared at them, laid back on Kunimi’s bed still but propped up on his elbows. 

Kunimi admired their own handiwork for the rest of the evening.

\---

The questioning at school hadn’t been pleasant. 

Honestly, Kageyama could have gone forever without dealing with another of Tsukishima’s tantrums; he knew deep down that Tsukishima wasn’t even that bothered, he was just annoyed he had to find another toy to play with while he ignored his own feelings. Kageyama wasn’t even sure who Tsukishima’s feelings were for- was it that Nekoma captain? Was it their _own_ captain, Yamaguchi?- but he was certain that they weren’t for him. 

Tsukishima had taken one glance at the mottled purple bruise on Kageyama’s neck and chose to give Kageyama the cold shoulder all day. Kageyama just hoped he was over it by practice. 

Yachi had been kind enough to not mention the bruise- though he had a sneaking suspicion it was because he’d never told anyone what he’d seen her doing with Kanoka last semester. 

Hinata had pestered him about it, but, along with Yamaguchi, knew when to take the hint and stop bothering him about it.

“I mean- Kageyama, we’ve all turned up to school with hickeys, it’s no big deal.” Hinata shrugged, stealing some of the chips from Kageyama’s lunch. 

“Exactly, Hinata’s right.” Yamaguchi agreed, running a hand through the mullet he’d grown out since first year. “Besides, tell us- how _is_ Kunimi? Do they kiss good?”

Kageyama threw a grape at the team captain’s head. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Don’t lie to us, we know it was them who mauled your neck.”

“I never said it wasn’t, idiot. I just said I don’t know if they kiss well.”

“I’m not following.”

  
  


“They bit my neck. They didn’t kiss me.”

“They went straight to _that_? Damn, Kageyama, you got yourself a freaky partner.”

“Yamaguchi Tadashi, if you ever speak about Kunimi Akira in that way again I will serve a volleyball _so hard_ up your ass that-”

Kageyama’s threat was cut off by Yachi, holding a hand up and silencing him immediately.

She was good at keeping them all in line, Kageyama had to admit. “Kageyama, you know he’s just doing it to wind you up. Ignore him.” She turned her attention to Yamaguchi, who was rubbing the back of his neck under the wavy tendrils of his mullet. “And you- behave, hm? Don’t be a dick today just because you're jealous Kageyama has someone who wants to tear his neck apart and you don’t.” 

Kageyama found her recently acquired confidence confusing, when she had been a walking tribute to social anxiety for as long as he had known her, but he knew that it had always been there, under the surface. It wasn’t a change, he had to remind himself, just growth.

Yamaguchi went to protest, but with one stern look from Yachi he closed his mouth. Kageyama never understood what was going on between the two of them (with each other, and everyone else if he was honest), but he was grateful for Yachi stepping in. 

He was also grateful for Hinata stepping in, showing off his newest gift from Kenma. It was a phone charm- a cat and a crow- and Kageyama was certain that if he saw Kenma’s phone, its twin would be dangling just like on Hinata’s phone. Their friendship was weird, but he enjoyed teasing Hinata about 

The rest of lunch passed without incident, but Kageyama pulled the fabric of his shirt up a little higher on his neck, and avoided Tsukishima’s icy glare. 

\---

Kindaichi hadn’t even bothered showing up that evening. 

He’d texted Kageyama during the last period of the day, some excuse about his little sister needing to be babysat for the afternoon while his parents worked late, and Kageyama had smiled the smallest of smiles. He’d been about to reply with an acknowledgement (and perhaps an emoji if he felt up to it), when his phone chimed yet again with the happy little text tone that meant Kunimi was talking to him. He knew it was silly to set up a different alert just for them, but honestly he was too lazy to check his phone all the time. If he knew from the off whether it was Kunimi or it wasn’t, Kageyama wouldn’t waste his effort _or_ miss an opportunity to talk to them until the early hours. It was a win-win situation.

(14:38)

 **kuniminimi:** im not picking u up on my own like a loser 

**kuniminimi:** so just come to my house

 **kuniminimi:** if you want to hang out anyway

(14:39)

 **tobiohno:** sure

 **kuniminimi:** wow u sound thrilled

 **tobiohno:** please shut the fuck up

(14:41)

 **kuniminimi:** make me

(14:48)

 **tobiohno:** i hate you 

Kageyama had taken several minutes to stare at his phone screen, hidden under the cover of his desk. His thoughts raced, and he wondered if this was why they called it being lovesick. 

He blushed for the rest of his last period and had to deal with Hinata’s pestering about it. It was awkward but Kageyama didn’t mind the slightly queasy feeling in his stomach as he counted down the seconds until he was free to hide away in the quiet bliss of a bedroom with cobalt coloured bed sheets and cracks in the ceiling.

As he left school, he didn’t even bother spewing an explanation to the other third years as to why his friends from Aoba Johsai weren’t there to pick him up. He mumbled a goodbye, saying he’d see them in the morning for practice, and walked as fast as was socially acceptable in the direction of the Kunimi family home. 

Kageyama paused on the front porch step, catching his breath and steeling his nerves. For the first time in a long time, possibly ever, he fussed with his hair and smoothed out his clothes. He wished he hadn’t walked so fast- he felt a little sweaty and gross and great, now he’s overthinking.

Kunimi watched this unfold through their front window, and if Kageyama hadn’t been two shakes of a lamb’s tail from an impending panic attack, he’d have seen their fond smile and, if he was lucky, their soft laugh hidden behind their hand. Kunimi was feeling generous, as it were, so they opened up the front door with the ghost of fondness gracing their delicate features.

“You coming in, or what?” They asked, and Kageyama was grateful they’d opened the door. His face was red, but he averted his gaze and nodded. The movement exposed a flash of the deep purple reminder of the previous day that peeked out from his shirt collar. 

Kunimi stepped back, opening the front door wide enough to allow Kageyama inside. Kageyama stashed his school bag, shoes and jacket to one side (as he always did, it was routine by now), sliding on a pair of guest slippers. He wriggled his toes, shifting his weight to and from the balls of his feet as he watched Kunimi, who momentarily disappeared into the kitchen, returning with a cup of milk for Kageyama and a cup of apple juice for themself. 

“Let’s go to my room.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Kunimi walked up the stairs first, careful not to spill a drop of their drinks on the carpet; Kageyama knew their mother wouldn’t be happy to see the mess, and briefly he remembered her kindness to him when he and Kunimi had been friends in middle school. He missed the orange slices and the pats on the back she’d give him, win or lose. She was nice. 

Kunimi was nice, sometimes.

But mainly, they confused him and made his chest feel tight and his tummy feel uneasy. 

He liked it.

The two of them reclined on Kunimi’s single bed, much too small to be supporting the weight of two people over six feet tall. They were cramped together, each laying on their side, head propped up on their arm and staring at each other. There was a regulated gap between them, a safety barrier for Kageyama’s nerves, and the two of them stayed silent. There was no rush, there was nothing pushing them to do anything and the two of them were grateful. 

Kageyama would be lying if he said he didn’t want to reach out and touch Kunimi, but the nagging feeling that this couldn’t last hung over him, like a fog that was fast approaching and ready to cloak him in guilt. Every step he took towards Kunimi was a step away from his dream, and every step towards his dream was another nail in the coffin of what could be between them. 

Kageyama couldn’t have it both ways. 

“Kunimi?” His voice was low, a husky whisper as he looked at his companion. 

Kunimi hummed in acknowledgement, their gaze meeting Kageyama’s. That fondness was there, but it was kept company by a natural reservedness that Kunimi had always possessed. 

“What are you doing after graduation?” Kageyama’s voice was even. He was grateful it didn’t shake and betray his true nerves. 

Kunimi’s eyes squeezed shut and they sighed. Kageyama guessed that they weren’t happy with their plans.

“I’m going to university. One close to here- Mum thinks it isn’t smart for me to move into dorms when they’re mainly split by gender and I-” They cut themselves off, sighing softly. “I don’t fit in anywhere, do I? So I’ll get the train in everyday, it’ll be fine. I think.”

Kageyama’s chest felt uneasy as he listened. He knew Kunimi didn’t particularly care about volleyball, but there was always a part of him that yearned to toss to Kunimi again someday. He didn’t really realise that until it seemed clear that Kunimi wasn’t going to follow him into the professional league. 

Kunimi seemed nervous in the silence, Kageyama noticed- he belatedly realised he hadn’t responded to Kunimi’s answer. “You’re going to be more than fine.”

“If you say so.” Kunimi sighed, lips pursed slightly. They were overthinking, Kageyama could tell. “Where are you going to university? I bet you’re off to Tokyo, hm? Though, you couldn’t even get into Shiratorizawa, could you? Have you bribed one of the admissions officers, or got a scholarship?”

Kageyama shot Kunimi a glare, bumping his knee into theirs in mock anger. “Mean. I haven’t bribed anyone, and- actually, _fuck you_ , I learned how to study this year. No thanks to you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t act you don’t love coming to my house, asshole.”

“Shut up.”

Kunimi rolled their eyes, before backtracking the conversation slightly. “Anyway. Tell me, was I right? Are you going to Tokyo?”

“No, I’m not.”

“So you’re staying around Miyagi?”

“No.”

“Where are you going, then? I’m bored of guessing.”

Kageyama averted his eyes, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt sleeve. He didn’t want to tell Kunimi, he didn’t want to ruin what was happening between them, he wished he’d kept his mouth shut-

“ _Tobio_.” Kunimi’s voice cut through the racing thoughts, past the rushing and pounding of his pulse in his ears. “What’s wrong? Did you not get in anywhere? I’m sorry for teasing, I-”

“Rome.”

Kunimi was confused, tilting their head and furrowing their brows. “Rome? What about Rome?”

“After graduation, I’m going to Rome.”

“What, like- on a trip?”

“No, I’ve been scouted to play. In the Italian league.”

“You’re going to Rome.”

“Yeah.”

Kunimi’s whole face had faltered, and even Kageyama could read their expression like a picture book, before they plastered on their typical apathetic mask. “Cool.”

“Kunimi-”

“Whatever, Kageyama.” They sat up on their bed, turning away from Kageyama. They drained the contents of their glass of apple juice, the room suddenly seeming a lot hotter and more cramped than before. Kageyama watched them close off, shutting him out. 

“Kunimi, I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to upset you.”

“I’m not upset. Why would I be upset? You must be upset. Don’t project your upset-ness onto me, asshole.” Kageyama could see the lie. Kunimi’s eyes had flitted to the side, avoiding Kageyama’s gaze and they’d snapped their response, defensive and denying from the get go. They didn’t want to be vulnerable, admit their weakness. Kageyama understood.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that, when you aren’t.” Kunimi laughed, but it was cold and it pricked at Kageyama’s feelings, like his chest was a balloon about to pop under the jab of Kunimi’s iciness. “If you were sorry you wouldn’t have messed me around for months. Can’t believe this shit.”

“I didn’t, I swear.” Kageyama interjected. He wasn’t sure how Kunimi couldn’t see that this was hurting him, too- he was being pulled in every direction and nothing felt right. “I never played with your feelings and I never wanted to hurt you and-”

“Just _go_.” 

Their voice was soft, and Kageyama thought it hurt more than if they’d screamed at him. The pleading for Kageyama to leave was painful, and Kageyama felt his eyes sting painfully as they took in Kunimi’s appearance for a moment. They weren’t facing Kageyama anymore, but their hand was shaking slightly and their bottom lip was pulled between their pearly whites in an effort to hold themselves together. Kageyama felt similar.

Kageyama accepted defeat graciously, eyes cast down at the floor as he sat up from his spot on Kunimi’s bed. He didn’t say anything else; it would be futile and likely hurt Kunimi even more. The only selfish act he allowed himself was this: he leaned in close to Kunimi, who perched on the end of their bed and faced away from him, and pressed his lips in a chaste, slow kiss to their shoulder. He breathed in their smell- like violet scented body wash and the smell of clothes detergent- and relished in the warmth of their clothed skin against his lips. He didn’t want to pull away, but he had to. 

With that, Kageyama left the Kunimi household, knowing he wasn’t to return for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this work is part of a series, and is set before the first instalment (this is me trying)- does it count as prequel when i started writing this one months before?
> 
> want to say thank you for reading, and i do hope you leave a comment and kudos. i know they don't make the world go round, but for a small writer like myself it means the world. 
> 
> if you want to shout at me for hurting these boys, find me on discord @effie#4262
> 
> special thanks to ce for discussing this fic idea with me many moons ago, to amber for being a constant pillar of support and to chi for always coming through for me when i need you <3


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